


Cold Nose, Warm Heart

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ice, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt #9: Ice.  An aggravating hunt provides the opportunity for a little fun in the midst of the action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Nose, Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

“Come on, Sam, get a move on.” Dean shivered and rubbed his hands together. He’d sworn that they wouldn’t take another job in the north, but as usual, the spirit world was laughing at him. And here they were, in northern Minnesota in mid January. Damn. Sam was following the track of some elemental on the EMF, through the town’s ice carnival. He’d tried to tell his brother that they needed to wait until after dark, but Sam wasn’t having any of it. Then again, it was warmer – as if the inside of an igloo was warm – while the sun was out.

Sam knew better than to say anything, but he loved the way the ice sculptures looked, sparkling in the sunlight, and hey, he really did have some readings on the EMF meter. Not the sort of reading they would normally bother chasing down, but faint. It puzzled him, because the reading came from each statue base. He mentioned it to Dean, who immediately perked up.

“Flamethrower,” he asked hopefully, and Sam thwapped him upside the head.

“Try and use what little brain you have left, jackass. It’s the ice pedestals giving the readings – I bet wherever they carved them out of, that’s where we find the spirit.”

Dean thought to himself that Sam was probably right, but you couldn’t give the kid that much headway in one day. “Then find out, bitch,” was his reply.

It turned out the spirit was in the millhouse, the pedestals having been cut from the millhouse pond, in an attempt to keep local children from skating on the perfect ice. There was most definitely a haunting there – and both boys were floored to have a civilian tell them all about it, and then look at them with the discerning look that they always hated to see when they were new in a town.

“Well,” said the owner. “I did call John Winchester – he cleaned out a poltergeist in my sister’s house a year or two back – you two wouldn’t be his boys, now would you?”

The question had both of their jaws on the floor, and Sam finally managed to nod dumbly in reply.

“Well if that don’t beat all. Well, John said I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near. I’ll just check into the local for the night, leave you boys to it. Ah, I do like to carve, with the ice, so if you boys could try and keep the line of fire away from the cathedral out back, I’d be much obliged.”

“Cathedral?” Sam asked.

The man nodded. “Been trying to carve out a cathedral out of ice, build it up. Can’t quite get the thing right, so I haven’t done it for festival just yet. It’s at the entry to the cemetery. I’ll see you boys later. Good luck.”  
The boys exchanged glances. A hunt, in broad daylight. With the permission of the property owner. Well, maybe there was some grace in this frozen wasteland after all, Dean thought, and then realized that Sam hadn’t let him look at the file John had given them yet.

“You little shit. You dragged me tail first through the festival, when you knew…” Sam looked a little sheepish. “Damn. I’ll kill you later, after I’m warm. What is this thing we’re after.”

“Should just be a salt & burn, Dean. Man was crushed between the millstones – his lover slipped the stones, one night when she was angry with him.”

“Shit. Sam, did it occur to you that we’re not going to be digging up any graves, with the ground frozen?”

Sam sneered. “Don’t have to. Tombs are above ground.”

“Which one are we after?”

“Not sure. Gonna have to wait until it manifests to be sure. They’re both out there.”

“We could just-“

“No, we can’t, Dean. Even Dad doesn’t desecrate a grave unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

They built up a fire in the office of the millhouse, and hovered in front of the fireplace, as dusk approached. Both spirits emerged, coming after the boys, and it was a hell of a dodge and fire mess. They must have traded position a dozen times, and still hadn’t gotten a clear shot at the entities. Dean had barked at Sam to take it outside, where the open ground, littered with trees, wasn’t much danger, but Sam hated to think of pulling Dean out of one of those holes in the ice of the millpond. They’d have to go for the graves and hope they could alternate work enough to either salt and burn both sets of bones, or get a direct shot on one of the spirits. Sam darted through the ice cathedral to evade them on his way to the cemetery – stopped dead as he noted that the spirits didn’t enter. His brain raced through the possibilities.

“Dean! In here!”

Dean skidded inside. “Didn’t the old man tell us to stay out of here?”

“He didn’t say stay out, just keep it out of the line of fire. I think he must’ve added holy water when he froze the blocks for the walls.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” There was silence for a few minutes. “Dean. We could just wait until sunup, then take care of the graves.”

“And be stuck in an ice sculpture all night, freeze to death?”

“Look, there’s a fireplace built in here.”

“And the cathedral, which once again, we are not supposed to mess with, melts. Good one, Sam.”

“No, there’s ashes here, and wood beside. I bet he has a fire in this to keep himself warm while he works.” Sam lit a fire, and was surprised how quickly the small enclosure heated up – he was almost comfortable. Dean was still shivering. Sam took a sort of chilly seat on a bench built of ice, and pulled his brother into his lap.

“Sam-“

“I could warm you up,” Sam said slyly, and slipped his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean wasn’t capable of resisting – Sam was warm, dammit. Sam laid back, bringing his brother down on top of him.

“Sam, this is wrong.”

“Like you’re not hard as a rock. Come on, I know about your little priest kink, you know about mine, and it’s sure as hell a way to get warm and pass the time,” he coaxed. “We’ll get the fuckers graves at first light, but it’ll be a while until then.” He nibbled at Dean’s earlobe, and massaged Dean’s tight ass through his jeans, earning a moan out of Dean.

“Well, maybe just this once,” Dean replied, and reached for the zipper of Sam’s jeans. “But we go at dawn, you understand?”

“Oh, I understand,” Sam said, and it had a myriad of meanings, all of which Dean intended to ignore in favor of the grace of Sam’s lithe body.


End file.
